


Spill Your Guts

by LyricDreamweaver



Series: 33 Ocassions for TF2 Guro [18]
Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Begging, Blood and Gore, Bondage, Evisceration, Guro, Hand Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-26
Updated: 2017-09-26
Packaged: 2019-01-05 15:09:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12192309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LyricDreamweaver/pseuds/LyricDreamweaver
Summary: "Will you permit me a cigarette afterwards?" Spy asked, a brow raised. He made no move to stop the doctor. This would be a new and interesting way to spice up their trysts.Medic looked at Spy and, after a moment, nodded."Then I will permit you to string me across several battlefields."





	Spill Your Guts

**Author's Note:**

> It's been forever since I've written in my guro series. Let's see if I remember how to do it . . .

Their dearest doctor had a strange sense of aesthetics and their double-agent had a strange sense of pleasure. 

"I would like, if I may," the RED Medic said slowly, fingers twitching toward metal, "to try something a bit different."

The Medigun was focused on the Spy, who had already shrugged off his suit jacket and laid back on the operating table. "Oh?"

The Medic's hands worked at the Spy's shirt, button by button, fabric peeling away from flesh. "I want to cut you open and tie you up with your own intestines."

Now that was just downright vulgar. 

"Will you permit me a cigarette afterwards?" Spy asked, a brow raised. He made no move to stop the doctor. This would be a new and interesting way to spice up their trysts.

Medic looked at Spy and, after a moment, nodded. 

"Then I will permit you to string me across several battlefields."

The Medic laughed but Spy didn't know if the Medic would taking him up on this and, likewise, the Medic only had the vaguest notion that it was a joke.

Picking up a scalpel , the Medic carved. The first horizontal incision went below the ribcage. A second went above the navel. The third incision went vertical, allowing the rosy flesh and fluorescent yellow fat to be pulled aside, curtains drawn away from the doctor's prize. Spy let out a shaky sigh. This pain was delightful and had him curling his hands into fists.

Pulsating pink and red made the Medic lick his lips. He pulled slowly, reverently, untangling things so gently. And Spy let out a soft gasp. The feeling of having hands _inside_ him would never be a thing he could get used to, whether it was Medic's thick fist over-stretching him or those surgeon's fingers delving into muscle and blood.

When he had some length to work with, the Medic grasped Spy's wrists in his blood-soaked hands—no gloves, that would have been too impersonal for this—and pinned them above his head. He tied knots carefully, not wanting a single thing to rupture and smearing red over the Spy's hands. 

"You're always so handsome covered in your own blood," Medic mused. 

Spy offered the Medic a rather genial smile and added, "You look handsome covered in blood."

The Medic leaned in, capturing the Spy's lips in a rather heated kiss. He loved to have the other at his mercy. And the things he could do . . . 

But tonight, at least, he would be kind. He adjusted some knobs, some levers on the Medigun. He didn't want things to heal up in an instant. He wanted things stable, he wanted time to play with his pet project.

Hands ran up the Spy's clothed thighs, smearing blood and flaking off what had already dried. There would be more, always more. Yanking the Spy's slacks down, Medic practically purred. 

He dipped his hands into the Spy's open abdomen: stroking the intestine (and making Spy gasp and groan and _writhe_ ). He wanted to slide the blade up further, wanted to cup his lungs and see if he could get Spy to groan from that or simply set the Spy's heart to a rhythm the Medic set, having control over him.

Instead, he slid his blood-soaked hand along the Spy's half-hard shaft. He brought him to full hardness, but kept climax at bay, wanting the Spy to beg.

"Docteur," a dreamy lust-hazed sigh. Blue eyes glossed over with want.

"You're going to have to tell me what you want." Medic grinned, so many bright, white teeth glinting in the lights of the operating theatre.

"I want to cum." 

Not good enough.

"Beg."

Spy's mouth set into a hard scowl. Even though he'd been laid open in so many senses, he was still so prideful. Medic could think of a few ways to correct that.

"Beg," the doctor insisted.

There was a still moment where only the hum of the Medigun and the throbbing of Spy's heart broke the silence. Medic rested his hand on the other's thigh, tortuously close to giving him the friction Spy needed to finish but never quite.

"Beg." Medic dug his blunt nails into the Spy's flesh, making him hiss, his cock throb.

"Beg." Medic demanded it, one hand gripping Spy's throat, leaving smears of red.

"Please," Spy choked out, practically drooling. "I am in your hands."

"Completely?" The hand came away from Spy's throat. 

"Entirely."

That was all the encouragement Medic needed. Obedient creatures got treats and Spy's was spilling himself into the Medic's hand, shuddering and sighing.

Reluctantly, Medic began untying Spy, putting him back together. This experience had the doctor hard and doing everything he could not to fuck the Spy into the table right then.


End file.
